Keep on Trying
by SeraphJewel
Summary: Winning the Hunger Games was just the beginning for the young boy from District 4. He finds out that there is a heavy price to pay for victory, but he keeps going thanks to one special girl...
1. One

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own The Hunger Games or any characters in the trilogy. These all belong to Suzanne Collins. I also don't own the song that inspired this fic. It just happened to be playing in my head while I was reading.

**Keep on Trying**

_One_

"Ladies and gentlemen, your Hunger Games champion!" The crowd went wild, screaming out their approval as the boy's face was flashed across every screen.

It was so easy to focus on the face: the boy was very handsome. His prep team barely had to do any work to help him along. Every single camera eye was on him and he gave the viewers a modestly shy smile. If anything, this made the crowd roar louder.

They were witness to this boy as a killer. They saw him trap other tributes in a net and spear them like fish. Now he was back from the arena as a boy again. The crowd loved him. They could run home and say they saw the youngest victor of the Hunger Games in person.

The Capitol loved him. The people loved him. Everyone loved him.

"I'm glad to be seeing you again, Caesar," the boy said, reaching out to shake the older man's hand. Caesar was wearing his hair green in honor of the new victor.

"I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say it's good seeing you again too." Caesar graciously allowed a silence so the audience could fill it with more cheering. "I think it's pretty clear that you're a fan favorite," Caesar commented with a smile. "What do you attribute to your great success?"

"I don't know." The boy blinked at the bright lights, at all the faces watching him. His face was wide in innocence and surprise. "But I'm very grateful for your generosity and support. I don't think I could've done it without you."

"Oh, come on now," Caesar chided, giving the boy an indulgent smile. "You have to have _some_ idea!" When the victor responded with a modest shrug of the shoulders, Caesar appealed to the crowd: "Shall we look through the highlights to jog his memory?" The audience approved it with thunderous applause.

Together all of Panem re-lived this unlikely victor's rise to the top. The trident was without question the highlight of the Games. The moment his small hands curled around the weapon a change came over him. A certain light sparked in his eyes. He knew this weapon; it was as familiar to him as his own two hands. After that the other tributes didn't stand a chance.

"How about that, eh?" Caesar beamed at the audience, who were practically screaming their approval.

"Thank you, Caesar. I remember the reason for my success now." There was a silence as the world waited for the boy's next words. "I'm a fisherman."

"Indeed you are," Caesar agreed. "Once again, ladies and gentlemen: your champion!"

They probably could've paraded him in front of the cameras all night if his mentor hadn't insisted on him getting sleep. On his way back to his quarters several members of the crowd reached out in an attempt to touch him. He extended his hand so his fingertips would brush theirs. If possible, that made the crowd roar louder.

"They all seem to like me, Mags," he noted, exhaling a long breath of relief.

"Oh, they don't just like you," the older woman corrected him. "They _love_ you, Finnick."

"I noticed." Finnick pulled a grimace. "They sent me a trident, Mags. A _trident_." The net he fashioned himself, but that trident was the gift of a very generous sponsor. Being from District 4, the trident was an irreplaceable tool. He wasn't naïve enough to believe his sponsors didn't just give it to them because they liked him. It was an expensive tool, and without question it tipped the scales in his favor.

"Don't worry about tomorrow's problems today," Mags advised him. She offered the boy a smile before sending him off to his room.

He was supposed to be getting sleep but instead Finnick just stared at the ceiling as the Game highlights flashed back through his mind. It was surreal watching himself on screen like that. Now he knew what everyone else saw. It only made him more uneasy.

He didn't want to sleep. That trident was dangling over his head and if he closed his eyes, it would fall down and skewer him through the heart.


	2. Two

_Two_

She snuck up on him. He was sitting on the steps of his new house working on knots when she popped up. One minute he was there alone and in the next the girl was there. He gave a little jump when he noticed her hovering there.

"Annie! I didn't see you there."

"Don't make a sound," she murmured. "Breathe long and quiet. Tread lightly."

"You're good at that," Finnick agreed. She responded with a smile. The smile transformed her face, like a flower suddenly blooming. Finnick stared until it seemed rude and quickly glanced away. For whatever reason, Annie decided to sit next to him. He didn't mind her company one way or the other. It was just that he didn't really know her that well so he felt a little awkward.

"Talent?" she asked suddenly.

"Hm? Oh… I haven't thought about it," he shrugged. He knew that all the victors were supposed to have a talent to keep them going throughout their lives, but for whatever reason Mags hadn't worked with him on his for long. "What's yours?" he wondered.

For answer Annie slid a necklace over his head. Finnick tugged it up with a finger to get a better look. The necklace was made of strong rope, and through the string was woven tiny shells of various shapes and sizes. The way Annie coordinated the shell colors was actually very beautiful. Finnick lifted his head to thank her but she was already gone.

The tour loomed closer and Finnick still didn't have anything by way of talent. He restlessly worked on knots as he and Mags went through all the usual stuff. Music. Art. Dancing. Mags even tried to teach him her talent of weaving, but it was no good. He could make nets and every conceivable kind of knot but those were hardly the sort of talents those in the Capitol would be interested in.

Finnick figured he had to be the first victor in the history of the Games to go on the tour without a talent. Mags didn't seem that worried about it and Finnick tried not to be, either. He took deep, calming breaths while his prep team got him ready. They gabbed about the Capitol and how excited everyone was to see him again. Finnick assured them he was excited, too.

Excited. Petrified. Pretty much the same thing, right?

"What's my talent?" he hissed desperately to Mags.

"It's a secret," she answered, patting him on the shoulder. "There's going to be a big party when you get to the Capitol, and that's when you're going to reveal it to everyone."

"Oh. All right." Mags brought him through the Games so he trusted her with whatever she was planning now.

The tour of the districts was extremely depressing. Finnick was shocked by how bad the living conditions were in some of the other districts. District 4 wasn't perfect by any means but they had the fresh salt air and the peace of the sea. He was given the option of giving a little personal note with ever district, but what could he possibly say? The only tributes he could recall were the ones he personally killed.

So he stayed silent and moved on.

The Capitol was in full celebration mode when he got there. The people were in their gaudiest outfits, some wearing fishnets or crab shells or scales or any number of things to honor District 4. Finnick even thought he saw a few wearing Annie's shell jewelry. Those were all the things that seemed tasteful. If he saw anything extreme Finnick tried not to look too shocked.

Finnick found himself on the stage with Caesar again. Caesar was in the spirit with sea-green hair and a suit that glittered like fish scales. Finnick smiled and reached out to shake the older man's hand.

"It's good to see you again, Caesar," the boy said.

"And you too, Finnick," Caesar answered, looking absolutely thrilled at the greeting. "I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say it's good to have you back in the Capitol. Right?" He turned to the audience, who gave a very enthusiastic agreement. "Now, Finnick, we're all dying to know what your talent is. Your mentor Mags tells us it's something truly amazing!"

"Oh." Finnick's mouth grew suddenly dry. "Yeah. It's really something." This was it, the moment of truth. And the only talent he would probably show the people of the Capitol was how much he could vomit on the stage.

He could feel every eye in Panem focused on him. He closed his own, praying for some sort of inspiration. Mags didn't give him any sort of instruction on what he should do. Desperate, he fought for any memories he could go to for inspiration. Unexpectedly, his thoughts turned to Annie.

Don't make a sound. Breathe long and quiet. Tread lightly. Finnick opened his eyes again and didn't feel worried anymore.

"I am Poseidon, lord of the sea and storms!" he declared, rising to his feet. "My weapon is the trident. I wield it with a mighty force! None can stand against me!"

His last words hung in the air. There was utter silence throughout the audience. Finnick stood with his arms outstretched, waiting. Caesar slowly ran his tongue over his lips as even he was left at a loss for words.

"Well," the man croaked out finally. "Imagine that. We have ourselves an actor!" He applauded, which got everyone else to do the same. Finnick managed a smile as he shakily got back in his seat. It was only until after all the camera lights disappeared for the night that he could think properly again. And when he did, it was with one stunned question:

_What have I done?_


	3. Three

_Three_

Truthfully, every single tribute was an actor. They put on a show for the Capitol and their potential sponsors, and once they got in the arena they acted like killers until they either died or became victors. The victors were all actors, too: acting like their talents were something other than entertainment for the Capitol. Acting confident for the young tributes they mentored every year. Acting like they didn't carry the memory of their Games every single day for the rest of their lives.

They all played a role. Finnick was just the first to think of using it as his talent.

"I remember something a wise bard once said," Mags mentioned once they were alone. " 'All the world's a stage, and men and women merely players'. Play to the crowd, Finnick."

Now that he was an actor, everyone in the Capitol wanted him to make a personal appearance at their party. The Poseidon bit was a big success, so his stylist created a costume to suit the character. All the crowd wanted was to see him wield a prop trident and look impressive.

Finnick felt powerful. He could be anything or anyone, while still keeping the real Finnick Odair safe.

On the last night of his tour he was invited to the president's suite for a final performance. Instead of doing his Poseidon bit Finnick made up something completely new. It was amazing how good he was at improvising. He felt like he was sailing through the clouds and no one could touch him.

The crowd loved him. When he finished he took a bow, and got a standing ovation. He caught the president's eye and got his nod of approval. This was a much better feeling than winning the Games. This was something Finnick did all on his own, and it wasn't hurting anyone.

The president managed to weave his way through Finnick's admirers. "I must say that was quite a performance." He smiled, but there was something odd about it. It made Finnick think of sharks.

"Thank you, sir," the boy answered meekly.

"I'm curious to see how your talent will mature over time." There was that shark-smile again. A shiver went up Finnick's spine but he was an actor so he smiled broadly.

Back in his own district, Finnick was greeted with enthusiastic applause. Winning the Games gave him the status of a victor; being an actor was raising him even higher. He was now a celebrity. Mags looked so proud of him.

Finnick didn't have to participate in fishing expeditions anymore. While everyone else was hard at work he was idling around his house. He practiced his knots and made nets to pass the time. He really didn't need any practice on his talent since he made it all up on the spot.

"Are the masks all gone?" The voice made him jump.

"Annie! You snuck up on me." He was very pleased to see her, though, and scooted over so she would have room to sit. She quietly took the invitation. "You're so quiet," Finnick observed, "I never hear you coming."

"They don't see you if you're invisible," she told him. She tilted her head, reaching out to brush her fingers lightly over his shoulder. Her closeness made his heart race. "You're loud," Annie continued. "Everyone sees you."

"Yes, they do," Finnick agreed happily. "Isn't it great?"

Annie didn't say anything. Her fingers touched his cheek briefly, and then she got to her feet and walked away. Finnick sat there watching her, stunned and hurt. What could he have done? He got to his feet and hurried after her.

"Annie, wait!" She stopped, turning back to face him. "Did I upset you somehow?" Finnick wondered.

"No. I thought you knew." Finnick didn't understand what she was talking about. A lot of people thought Annie went wrong after she won her Games. Finnick barely talked to her before that so he didn't know.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Annie."

"They should only see you once," she said. "But they'll always see you now." Finnick still didn't understand what she meant but she seemed pretty upset about it.

"Annie, it's okay," he assured her, taking her hand in his and squeezing it lightly. "They're supposed to see me. I'm an actor."

"I know," she whispered. Her hand squeezed back hard.

The next Games were upon them before they knew it. Everyone gathered for the reaping. Finnick had to stand on stage next to Mags while they waited for the two new tributes. Annie technically could've stood with them but after her own Games she was never asked.

There was high demand for Finnick to act as the mentor for the new tributes. Everyone in the Capitol was expecting to see him. Mags figured that their tributes would be getting more sponsors just because of him.

_Everyone will see you now,_ Annie told him.

"Well," Finnick said to himself, taking a deep breath. "Here I am."


	4. Four

_Four_

This was a part of the Games Finnick never thought he would get to see. When they televised the Games they focused on the chaos of the arena, and Finnick experienced that chaos personally. Now he was a mentor and got to see all the hidden things that happened: the sponsors, the strategies, everything that made the tributes worth something for as long as they lived.

Mags did most of the actual mentoring. She worked with the tributes on what image they would project to the world, what they would show the Gamemakers to impress them. For Finnick, his own Games were still too fresh in his mind to offer any advice. His job would be to gather sponsors for the tributes.

He hadn't meant to choose acting as his talent but he glad he had it now. From the moment they arrived at the Capitol Finnick was seeking out the rich and influential to act as sponsors. In the back of his mind he could see the trident that helped him win his Games. His tributes needed a generous sponsor like that.

Both of the District 4 tributes received high marks from the Gamemakers. That gave him a good starting point to work with when he met with sponsors. And the first potential sponsors invited him to a party that very night.

Rather than have him stand in front of the other guests and perform, these potential sponsors expected him to mingle. He didn't mind; it gave him a chance to speak to all the guests one-on-one. He tried to talk up both of the tributes as much as possible. The party was winding down and Finnick went up to his host to bid good-night.

"Thank you for having me."

"It was my pleasure, Finnick," the older man responded. "Ever since I saw you win the Games I wanted to meet you."

"Thank you," Finnick said again.

"You're quite a talented actor," the man continued. "I wonder just how good you really are…?"

"Oh! I wasn't acting when I spoke of the tributes. They're both really that good." The man was tall with gold highlights in his dark hair. It was hard to tell age in the Capitol but this man had at least ten years on Finnick, if not more. Old enough to need a lot of convincing to be a sponsor. "The girl, she-"

"Not right now." The man held up a hand to stop Finnick. "Wait until all my other guests have gone. Then I can give you my undivided attention." Finnick had no other choice but to agree. He stood in the back watching as the guests slowly went home. The time ticked to the early hours of the morning until finally Finnick was the only one left.

"So, sir, as I was saying-"

"You can call me Horne," the man interrupted.

"Horne," Finnick echoed. "As I was saying about the girl-"

"Would you say that everyone in your district is physically fit?" Horne interrupted again. He was eyeing Finnick with interest, the tattoos around his eyes making the look that much more noticeable.

"Ah… yes, sir, I would say so. Fishing takes great strength and skilled hands."

"I hope the fish haven't gotten into your skin." Horne leaned very close, his breath on Finnick's cheek. "No. You don't smell like fish." Finnick didn't know what he should say or do. Thankfully Horne pulled away again. "So your physical condition would be similar to the two tributes?"

"Yes," Finnick answered slowly.

"Show me." Finnick assumed the man meant with some demonstration of strength, but before he could try it Horne shook his head. "Take off your shirt and _show_ me." When Finnick hesitated, Horne moved close again. "You're an actor, aren't you? You can't be shy in front of an audience."

Finnick knew he was right. Besides, it was just another part of the Games. So he pulled off his shirt and flexed his muscles. Horne started running his hands over the boy's shoulders and chest. Finnick focused on a point over the man's shoulder, standing as still as possible.

"I'm very wealthy, Finnick," Horne murmured. "I could be a very important sponsor for your tributes. How much do you think that's worth?" Finnick pictured the trident. A gift like that was priceless. Horne leaned close, his ragged breath heavy against Finnick's ear. "I'm going to tell you exactly how much _I_ think it's worth."

And he did. Horne laid out the price in detail. As he listened Finnick thought of those two kids who were depending on him for generous sponsors. Horne waited for the boy to make a decision._ I'm an actor,_ Finnick reminded himself. _This is just another role I'm playing._

Much later Finnick was in his room watching the sun rise. He hadn't slept at all that night. His mind kept playing back what happened over and over. When it was over Horne had whispered something in his ear: "Your tributes will be taken care of." Finnick took that to mean he played his role well. At least this time.

The sun had fully risen now. Finnick wasn't going to get sleep anytime soon, and the Games were set to begin. He decided he wasn't going to tell Mags what happened. He would watch the Games like everyone else and hope that his acting did some good.


	5. Five

_Five_

Neither of his tributes won the Games. They got very far- far enough to warrant interviews from both Finnick and Mags. Finnick's swore body was a testament to how hard he worked to keep them both alive. But in the end they fell and victory went to another district. It hurt Finnick to watch. In the back of his mind he wondered if maybe he could've done something more.

He and Mags headed back home. The moment he was back in his house Finnick hopped in the shower and turned the water on as hot as he could stand. He hung his head under the spray waiting for his body to numb against the heat. He could stand there all day and the water would never get hot enough to burn away memories of the Capitol.

Feeling restless, Finnick started wandering around the village. People greeted him as he passed but none brought up the events of the Games. He felt like he should say something to the families of the fallen tributes, but what was there to say? They saw the gifts sponsors sent out; they knew he did his best.

_I'll do more next time,_ he promised himself.

He made it to the shipping yard where they were unloading the morning's catch. Needing something to do, he found some fishing nets that needed mending. He sat down to work on them at once. The noises from the shipping yard soothed him.

Finnick finished one net after a few hours and started looking around for more. That was when he spotted Annie. She was walking barefoot through the shipping yard picking up stray shells. Finnick immediately dropped what he was doing, hurrying over to meet her. Annie bent down to pick up a shell and Finnick's hand met hers halfway.

"Hi," he greeted her.

"Hi," she answered back. Despite everything that happened to him in the Capitol, Annie's smiling face caused a blush to spread over Finnick's face. Their hands touched and his heart fluttered excitedly.

"So, did I sneak up on you?" Finnick asked her playfully.

"No." The girl's smile grew wider. Finnick couldn't help laughing a little.

"Well, I'm not as good at it as you are." That got Annie to laugh too, and to Finnick it was the prettiest sound in the world. "You want to mend fishing nets with me?" Annie accepted with a nod and settled next to him.

The two sat in silence for a while as their fingers worked on the nets. For someone who was becoming very skilled at improvising, Finnick was at a sad lack for things to say. Luckily it seemed that so far Annie was content just to be around him. That pleased Finnick since he felt the same way about her.

"Your eyes are smiling," she noted out of the blue. Finnick blinked a little at this sudden observation. He wasn't sure how he should react to it.

"What do you mean?"

"Your eyes," Annie reiterated. She reached out to touch the corners of his eyes for emphasis. "They smile. That shows you're truly happy."

"That's true," Finnick agreed, "I am." He found her hand and slid his fingers through hers. He wondered what she saw in his eyes and if he could see that in hers. He swallowed down his nervous feelings. "Annie, have you ever been kissed?"

"No." She stared at him with wide eyes, her fingers tightly gripping his.

"Me neither," Finnick said, and leaned forward to gently press his lips up against hers. The gesture made his heart actually stop for a moment in his chest, then give a great fluttering leap. It started beating so loud that all the other noises around them were drowned out.

He couldn't tell if Annie was kissing him back, but her hand was still clinging to his so he took that as a good sign. Eventually Finnick pulled away to catch his breath. Annie's cheeks were flushed and her mouth was slightly open. Slowly she loosened her grip on his hand.

"Not pretending?" she asked in a whisper.

"No," he assured her. "I'm not pretending."

"Something happened." Her finger touched the corner of his eye again. "Something changed." Finnick got a little nervous worrying she somehow knew. "The tributes had generous sponsors," Annie continued thoughtfully. "You did something." All Finnick could do was nod. She couldn't possibly know, he kept assuring himself. But something in the way she looked at him made him doubt.

"It was just an act, Annie," he told her at last. "I was just playing a role. It wasn't real."

"Something changed," she insisted.

"Yes." Finnick swallowed hard. "It did." He saw a sad shadow pass over Annie's face. She rose to her feet. "Annie!" Finnick grabbed onto her hand, fearing she would walk out on him. "Annie, wait. It didn't matter. I didn't care about any of it."

"That's what so bad," she sighed. She leaned forward to press a single, soft kiss on his mouth. Then the fishermen started unloading their catch, and the two were swallowed up in the crowd.


	6. Six

_Six_

The next time the Games rolled around, Finnick knew what he was doing. He sought out sponsors as soon as possible and did what was needed to gain their support. But he found himself more powerful this time around. He was still playing a role, but this time they believed it to be true. Finnick was quite possibly the greatest actor in Panem.

It wasn't just sponsors anymore. Finnick focused on them, of course, but now there were others. He suspected that the word was starting to spread because these new people were asking him to do the same things he did for his sponsors. At first he refused. Doing those things for his sponsors was one thing; they gave him something in return. If these people weren't willing to act as sponsors, Finnick wasn't going to waste his time.

Then he was invited to the president's office.

"Finnick!" President Snow offered the boy a smile, reaching to shake his hand. "I'm so pleased to see you again."

"Thank you, sir," he responded as he took the older man's hand. President Snow had a tight grip.

"I've heard that you're becoming quite… talented." So Finnick was right: the word _was_ spreading. "But I have yet to enjoy your new act for myself."

"Oh." Finnick didn't know what to say, and judging from the look on President Snow's face there was no way out of it.

On the plus side, President Snow didn't expect Finnick to pretend he was enjoying it. Perhaps because the older man _knew_ it was all an act. Finnick stared at the wall with his lips pressed tightly together. He was glad the president couldn't see his face.

"Now, listen to me very carefully," President Snow whispered, his breath hot against Finnick's ear. "You _will_ be more generous with your talent in the future. If I find out you only spend time with sponsors, there will be consequences. Not for you, of course. But that mentally unstable girl… It would be a shame if something happened to her." Finnick couldn't control the shudder that went through his body.

He went back to his room after it was over. As he lay there on his stomach he couldn't help but think about what happened. Especially the threat made against Annie. Somehow President Snow knew that Annie was the one Finnick truly cared about.

Finnick was still sore when he stepped into the shower the next day. He turned the water as hot as he could handle and stood under its spray for a long time. It would never be enough to wash away what happened, but the heat gave him something else to focus on for a few moments.

When he was finished with his shower, Finnick knew he had no choice but to do as the president said. But that didn't necessarily mean he had to do it for free. Being such a good actor, he could make it _seem_ like he was doing it all of his own free will. Still, he wasn't about to do it for nothing and let his sponsors think they'd have the same privilege.

The next time he was invited to a party, Finnick spent the whole night thinking about methods of payment. Capitol people were very materialistic and shallow. Money was no big deal to them, and Finnick didn't need it anyway. As he watched the others at the party Finnick was reminded of something Mags told him: _All the world's a stage, and men and women merely players._ That meant the people of the Capitol were actors as well, in their way.

Finnick just needed to find a way behind their façade. And that was when he figured it out.

It didn't take long before he got a request for a one-on-one meeting. It amused Finnick that they would call it that. Make it seem formal, pretend that it meant nothing… That made it easier for Finnick to play his part.

"You know," he mentioned casually after it was over. "Usually I have a big schedule, but I have a few free hours. I'd like to spend them with you. Why don't you tell me more about yourself?"

He would play by President Snow's rules, but he wouldn't completely give in. Whatever came out of his mouth, the Capitol would never get to his heart. That belonged to only one person.

Finnick whispered her name as if that would bring him home to her sooner: "Annie".


	7. Seven

_Seven_

By the time he turned eighteen, Finnick did more than most would ever dream of doing. Winning the Hunger Games was just the beginning. But now that he was an official adult, all his customers felt it was finally acceptable to claim his intimate company. The women especially steered him to all the social events so everyone could see them together. For them, it was all about image.

And it didn't take long for Finnick's image to change.

Suddenly it didn't matter anymore what Finnick's talent was. Everyone in Panem now knew him as the most eligible bachelor. All the girls in the Capitol fell over themselves for the chance to go out with him, and the media followed every move.

Finnick at first was unsure of such a wide audience for his act. He'd grown used to doing it one-on-one, but now everyone was watching him and they would know the moment he let his character slip. He had to act all the time non-stop. There was no place anywhere he could be his true self.

_What have I done?_

Even people in his own district began to believe what they saw. Finnick wanted to tell them the truth but didn't want to risk being exposed. He hated lying to everyone, but what choice did he have?

"What's bothering you, Finnick?" Mags asked him when she came to visit his place. He knew he couldn't hide anything from her so he ended up telling the truth. She listened without interruption until he fell silent. "Boy," she huffed out, "what were you thinking?"

"It grew into something I hadn't counted on, Mags," Finnick answered with a helpless shake of his head. "Now it's out of my control."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Mags had a thoughtful look on her face. "It seems to me you have a _lot_ of control, Finnick. You've already realized that; you just need to stay confident."

"And not drop character," Finnick added.

"Difficult," Mags agreed, "but not impossible." A silence fell filled with Finnick watching the older woman. "I'm not your mentor anymore," Mags told him gently. "You can take care of yourself."

Finnick wanted to argue. He wanted to beg for her advice, but she was already walking out the door.

He sat alone for a few minutes, then rose to his feet and went out the door as well. Without hesitation Finnick found himself in front of Annie's house. He started insistently pounded on the door. He knew that he was risking a lot coming here but he also knew he had to be here.

The door opened to reveal Annie. She wasn't wearing any shoes and she had one of her shell necklaces around her throat. The moment her eyes lit on him the door shut closed again. Finnick hadn't expected that and needed a moment to recover from the shock before he started knocking again.

"Annie, it's me. Open the door." He knocked for at least a full minute before she finally opened the door again.

"You kissed me," she accused him.

"Yes."

"You kiss them."

"Yes," Finnick said again with a guilty swallow. He did a lot more than that, but the kissing was definitely what the media got to see. "But there's a difference, Annie. I don't love them."

"Love?" the girl repeated. Finnick stepped closer, leaning in close so only she could hear him as he whispered.

"I don't love them, Annie. It's all just an act."

"It doesn't mean anything to you," she concluded. He confirmed that with a nod but Annie didn't seem very happy. Finnick wished he understood what she wanted from him. He wished even more he could tell her everything the way he told Mags, but he couldn't risk putting her in any danger.

"You mean something to me," Finnick whispered. "I love you, Annie." The words were so quiet they barely came out at all but he was sure she still heard him. Finnick saw a blush rise in the girl's face.

Without saying a word Annie held out her hand to him. Finnick took it and found himself being guided inside Annie's house. The two of them stood together hand-in-hand, Finnick's heart pounding hard in his chest while he waited for her response.

"Love you," she echoed, making an "X" with her finger over where Finnick's heart hammered.

"Love you," Finnick agreed, mimicking the gesture. They smiled at each other and Finnick knew it was all worth it.


End file.
